Memory
by Masterdramon
Summary: After returning from Crash Town, Yusei shares some information that highly disturbs Jack Atlas. That information's potential implications for a certain bespectacled reporter are forcing Jack to take a far closer look at the question of memory. One-shot.


**Memory**

_Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's. All Yu-Gi-Oh!-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi._

[--------------------]

It was common knowledge amongst the Signers and their allies that Jack Atlas was a pensive man; it was not uncommon for him to withdraw from virtually all social interaction for days at a time, so when he did so in the aftermath of the Crashtown debacle no one thought much of it. With the exception of a few token overtures of concern from Yusei and Bruno, most of Jack's friends silently agreed that it was probably best to leave the former King of Riding Duels to his brooding.

Not that any of them had much clue as to _what_ he was brooding on, however. Yusei had provided some deeply disturbing information about his recent adventures away from the gang, and it was this information that had confined Jack to his bed for the past few days, doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling and contemplating just what it meant for a certain klutzy reporter who meant more to him than anything else in the world.

Because the thing that was currently dominating his thoughts was not murderous duel gangs or treacherous whip-carrying whores or insanely unfair One Turn Kill decks. Rather, it was the fact that Kiryu Kyosuke apparently remembered every single thing he had done as a Dark Signer, something that Jack had until recently considered impossible. If all of the former Team Satisfaction leader's memories had survived his rebirth at the hands of the Akaki Ryu, then could not the same apply to Carly Nagisa as well? It was the disastrous ramifications of this possibility that were currently preoccupying Jack's mind so thoroughly that sleep was essentially a non-issue.

Then again, perhaps he was over-thinking the matter. He couldn't really judge the current states of _all_ the resurrected Dark Signers based on the accounts of one, after all. Right now, the logical thing was to gather more information, not to jump to conclusions.

Checking the clock, Jack observed with relief that it was a little over ten minutes past the end of afternoon classes at Duel Academia. Barring that the girl might have stayed behind to ask additional questions of her professor (as she was wont to do these days), this was as good a time as any to attempt to talk to Aki Izayoi.

Jack forcefully punched the number into his cell phone and held his breath for a few moments before a cool female voice on the other end answered, "Moshi moshi."

"Izayoi, this is Jack Atlas," Jack announced without pause. Despite the amount of time that the psychic was now spending around the garage, the former King was still finding it difficult to shake the habit of referring to her solely by her family name.

"Hey Jack," Aki returned kindly. "I was just heading over to the garage, actually. I've got a few questions regarding advanced thermodynamics that the professor couldn't answer, so I'm hoping Yusei can clear up the issue for me."

"Humph," Jack grunted in response. He knew full well that the real reason why Aki was coming over had little to do with physics homework, and this timid little dance that the not-quite-yet-a-couple was engaged in was really starting to get on his nerves. Yusei practically had the girl throwing herself at him at this point, but the Signer leader was blind to everything that didn't involve gears and engines. How a man who could miniaturize a perpetual motion machine into a working power source for a child's skateboard could be so utterly stupid in matters of the heart was beyond Jack Atlas' comprehension. But then again, Jack supposed that he really wasn't one to preach on that subject…

"Anyway," Jack continued, "I have a question for you, Izayoi. I know that you are in regular correspondence with Misty Lola. Tell me – does she remember her experiences as a Dark Signer?"

"What?" Aki exclaimed, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips. "Why would you want to know that, Jack?"

"Never mind why," Jack replied impatiently. "Just answer the damn question!"

"Umm…well, yeah, she does," Aki stammered. "I mean…obviously we don't talk about it much, but I get the sense that she at least remembers the main events. After all, if she didn't remember that Divine was the one who really killed her brother, she definitely wouldn't want to be friends with me."

Jack mentally slapped himself. Now that Aki had laid it all out for him, that conclusion seemed unbearably obvious.

"Look, Jack…" Aki began uncertainly, clearly wrong-footed by his outburst. "Are…are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine, Izayoi," Jack lied unconcernedly. "Sorry, but I've got to go. Goodbye." And without waiting for a response, Jack hung up on his fellow Signer and hurled his phone at the opposite wall, watching it splinter into several dozen pieces with grim satisfaction. After staring at the point of impact for another few moments Jack grabbed his trench coat and began making his way to the Wheel of Fortune. There was still more information to gather, because Jack wasn't willing to confront his worst-case scenario until he was forced to.

[--------------------]

Finding Demak hadn't been nearly as difficult as Jack had expected it to be, given that none of the Signers or their allies seemed to know a single thing about the former wielder of the monkey birthmark. Indeed, if Jack was inclined to believe in destiny, he would have sworn by his deck that fate was conspiring against him…or for him. He really couldn't be quite sure which.

As it so happened, two hours of fruitless searching led Jack to Neo Domino City's oldest surviving restaurant, Burger World (strange which kinds of establishments tended to weather the test of time), and the insistent grumbling of his stomach compelled the duelist to stop in for a bite. His eyes widened as he recognized the bald-headed cashier who was now asking him, "What would you like to order, sir?" in the polite but stilted voice of a man who had been working far too long of a shift. Glancing upward after Jack failed to produce a response for several moments, Demak's eyes widened as well. "Jack Atlas?" he cried out in surprise.

Oh, joy. It looked like the living Demak was just another one of his numerous star-struck fans. Then again, such a reaction just might mean that Demak didn't remember seeing him as Dark Signer after all, so perhaps there was hope yet…

"I've been meaning to talk with you for a while now," Demak continued. "Or with _any_ of the Signers, really."

…Never mind.

After Jack purchased his greasy, brutally unhealthy meal and Demak secured time for a short break from his manager, the pair sat themselves down at table far at the back of the eatery, where faint red stains read, _Tell and you die_. Either someone had never bothered to clean away the fairly disturbing message, or else the ketchup stains had remained there so long that removing them was no longer possible. Either way, both the Signer and former Dark Signer ignored the crimson marks as they turned to face each other. Their eyes met, but neither spoke.

"A bit of a step down, working in a fast-food joint," Jack said finally, taking a bite of his burger.

"From plotting the end of the world, you mean?" Demak rejoined, before sighing deeply. "I'm afraid I can't agree. This job may not be as…glamorous, but I consider that penance. Before my death I had several business degrees and a comfortable position at Industrial Illusions, but I have no interest in going back to that life. It was too easy, too free of the punishment that I now know that I deserve. Some of the things that I did as a Dark Signer were…unforgivable. That's the main reason why I was hoping to see you or one of the other Signers, actually – to apologize. Please pass that along to the others, especially those children…that green-haired Signer and her brother. Nothing can erase what I tried to do to them – what I _did_ do to so many others – but every day I spend in this bottom-rung job feels like a small measure of atonement. I'm keeping a strictly Spartan livelihood, as well, and donating every excess yen I make to a children's program. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

Jack was stunned for a moment before replying, "Thank you for telling me this," and walking away without another word. Jack could not deny that Demak's efforts to redeem himself one step at a time were quite admirable, but he also couldn't deny that he had received the answer to his unspoken question, and that it was _not_ the answer he had been hoping for.

Destiny could go fuck itself.

[--------------------]

Since the man had no contact information that Jack was aware of and even _he_ wasn't stubborn enough to go to Peru just to confirm something that his heart had probably known all along, interviewing Bommer about the current status of his memories was out of the question. So far he was three-for-three, a sufficient record to conclude that the Dark Signers retaining their memories in their new lives was indeed the norm. Why, then, was Carly the exception? Or was this memory retrieval recent, and Carly _had_ in fact been affected by it as well? His worst-case scenario was rapidly becoming an open possibility, so it was high time for the former King to swallow his pride and ask the subject of his preoccupations directly.

The route to Carly's apartment was practically hard-wired into Jack's brain, given the number of times he had driven there on the way to speak to her before losing his nerve and tearing away at breakneck speed. He was on the verge of doing the same this time, but gathering all the resolve he had left in his body he dismounted his D-Wheel and headed straight for her door. This was a Saturday, so if he was remembering her routine correctly from the weeks that he had spent with her (and he wasn't liable to forget _anything_ from that period) she should at this moment be proofreading her articles for the next week…assuming that she wasn't behind schedule. Which, knowing her, she probably was. Exhaling lengthily, Jack knocked on the door.

Predictably, a loud crash immediately followed. A moment later Carly pushed open the door with difficulty, given that she was covered head-to-toe with marinara sauce. "Jack, it's you!" she exclaimed in excitement, seemingly oblivious to the Italian nightmare currently marring her appearance.

"Err…Carly, what in the world happened to you?" Jack couldn't help but ask, the strange sight momentarily driving the far more serious matters for which he had come to her home out of his mind.

"Oh, this…" Carly mumbled, blushing brilliantly. "I was, uh, trying to finish up an article with one hand and cook dinner with the other. Then I got really startled when you knocked, and I accidentally pushed the pot of spaghetti sauce I was mixing off the counter, and I was trying to steer it away from my laptop, and, umm, it sort of fell all over me, and…"

Carly showed no sign of stopping her ramble any time soon, so Jack kindly but forcefully placed his hand on her shoulder. "Go take a shower and change," he ordered. "We can talk after you do that." Carly bowed her head in agreement and sped off for the bathroom, her cheeks still a vibrant, rosy pink.

Jack sighed and took his old place on Carly's couch before grabbing her telephone and ordering a pizza. Normally he wouldn't trust it to get there on time, but he knew that this particular company was contracting out to Blackbird Delivery, and if Crow didn't get there promptly Jack could always kick his ass later. A loud rap on the door after just ten minutes assured Jack that that would not be necessary…for now, anyway.

"Blackbird Delivery!" Crow announced cheerfully as Jack opened the door, his eyes closed as he flashed his trademark grin. "The fastest deliveries in all of Neo Domino, personally assured by Crow the Bullet-sama himself! Now how will you be pay…" Crow stopped mid-sentence as he opened his eyes and beheld his customer. "Jack! What in the world are _you_ doing here?" he cried.

"None of your business, Crow," Jack stated commandingly. "Just let me pay for the pizza and leave."

"Wait, this is that girl Carly's apartment, isn't it?" Crow asked slyly, his eyebrows wiggling. "I think I get it now…"

"Shut the Hell up!" Jack yelled before throwing a wad of bills at his fellow Signer's feet. "You just lost your tip!"

"Wait a minute, you cheap-ass bastard!" Crow screamed, shaking his fist as the door was slammed and bolted in his face. Jack ignored him and took the pizza into the kitchen, just as Carly emerged in a fresh set of clothes that for whatever reason looked _exactly_ like her old ones. Her eyes lit up with surprise at the sight of the pizza box.

"I figured that this would be a much safer way to have dinner," Jack explained in that upfront tone of his that made it impossible for anyone to tell whether he was serious or joking. "At least this way, the sauce remains where it belongs."

Carly smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Jack. And it's my favorite, too! Ham and pineapple!" That, of course, had been precisely the reason that Jack had ordered those particular toppings in the first place. He was willing to eat it, but it certainly wouldn't have been his first choice if he had been ordering solely for himself. The pair opened up the box and began eating ravenously. Jack had only had a single hamburger that day, and it certainly hadn't filled his significant appetite, whereas it appeared as if Carly hadn't eaten that day at _all_. Which wouldn't really surprise Jack, since he knew her well enough to know that it was common for her to become so absorbed in her work that little things like food or personal hygiene would be pushed to the wayside. "So, why did you stop by?" Carly asked in between bites. "I usually only see you at crime scenes and police stings these days…"

Jack paused as he moved to grab another slice, finally withdrawing his hand and staring resolutely down at his plate. For just a moment there he had allowed himself to interact with Carly without thought, basking in the comfortable state of pure pleasure that marked…a couple. But fortunately Carly had reminded him of his self-enforced isolation from her, and consequently for the very important reasons _why_ he was imposing it on himself. "No reason," Jack answered evadingly. "Only…that story about the Dark Signers. Did you ever finish it?" This idea for how to broach the subject without arousing her suspicions had come out of nowhere, but he decided to run with it. Her initial reaction would tell him everything he needed to know. Any moment now the poor girl would burst into tears and demand from him where in God's name he got the audacity to remind her of that period of her life, a period where she had performed unspeakable actions that would scar her for the entirety of her second life…

But to Jack's astonishment, Carly did none of those things. Instead, she _laughed_. "I'm afraid not, Jack," she replied jovially. "I couldn't find anyone to interview about the Dark Signers' side of things. The Goodwin brothers are dead, I have no idea where Bommer or Demak or Kiryu are, and as for Misty-san…well, we just don't talk about it much. I found it a bit odd at first when she started sending me so much e-mail – I mean, we only met _once_, or twice if you count that brief encounter at the _Road of the King_ premier gala – almost as if she knew me intimately, but I got used to it after a while. I get the sense that she doesn't let a lot of people into her personal life, so I guess she just clings on super-tight to the people that do…but I guess I'm just rambling again. Anyway, back to your original question, the answer is no; that story is old hat by this point. My editor has every reporter on staff working solely on stuff related to the WRGP. I was just writing an exposé on Team Unicorn, actually. Did you know that their second and third team members have no official dueling records? The first duelist, Andore, keeps defeating every single team they go up against by himself!"

"No, I didn't know that," Jack muttered. "But just one other thing about that article...those are _all_ the Dark Signers, right? The ones you just named, I mean? You…you didn't forget any, did you?" Knowing from experience what kind of effect it might have, the former King continued to avoid eye contact at all costs.

"Nope, I'm pretty sure that's all of them," Carly said, her eyes pointing upward as she ticked them off on her fingers. "Rex, Rudger, Bommer, Demak, Kiryu, Misty…yeah, that's it."

Jack breathed an enormous sigh of relief that he hid behind his latest slice before changing the subject. Best to distance themselves from that dangerous line of questioning as much as possible.

[--------------------]

Jack carried on a decent conversation for about half an hour longer before departing, making sure to avoid any topics remotely related to the Dark Signers or the Jibakushin. Finally he was walking out the door with a polite goodbye and a chaste handshake, until one utterly forgettable journey home later he was back on his bed, staring at the same spot on the ceiling that he had focused on for the past few days. Who knew getting the answer you wanted…could feel this terrible.

If someone had told Jack a couple of months ago that at this point in the future Carly would be alive and completely well and he _wouldn't_ be marrying or at least dating her, he would have punched that person in the gut for making up such ridiculous stories. His love for the bespectacled girl had not diminished one iota since that point, but something else had. And that was the memory of him openly declared that love to her, and by extension every single memory of that horrible, horrible time in her "life."

Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense that Carly be the lone exception amongst her fellows. The Signers served as the vessels of the Akaki Ryu on Earth, but reciprocally that made the Crimson Dragon an extension of _their_ will, and whether consciously or subconsciously Jack had certainly wished for Carly to forget about the fact that she had sacrificed countless souls to feed her evil God, and even tried to kill _him_ under the delusion that it would allow the two of them to create a paradise out of Hell-on-Earth. The other Dark Signers had no one to make such a request. Sure Yusei (and himself and Crow, to a lesser degree) cared about Kiryu's fate, and Aki had gained a vested interest in Misty's wellbeing, but none of them loved their opponents anywhere even close to the level that he did.

And in the end, it was for the best. He saw how the memories of being the instruments of Armageddon had pushed Kiryu to seek a slow and gradual suicide in a town filled with death, and to a lesser degree how penitence for his actions had driven Demak to abandon virtually any pleasure in his life. These were not lives that he could ever desire for Carly. She was far too young, far too free, and far too happy…without him.

Perhaps the old adage was true, at least in this case – if you love something, you let it go. Jack couldn't risk that admitting his love for her once more might just reawaken the memory of him doing it once before, and thus reawaken a cornucopia of other memories that were far, far more painful. Better to let her live a life of blissful ignorance, where she never went to investigate the Arcadia Movement, was never killed by Divine, and was never revived by an immortal hummingbird to carry on a mission of eternal revenge. It was hard, but it was better this way.

At least that's what Jack Atlas told himself as furious tears streamed down his face.


End file.
